


Hush sweet summer

by kdlovehgk



Category: The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Best Friends, F/M, Friendship, Growing Up Together, Marriage, One Shot, everlark, mores2sl, so forgive the mistakes, wrote this a couplemonths back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 10:43:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12703368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kdlovehgk/pseuds/kdlovehgk
Summary: From that first day they met in school to their last memory.Katniss explores what the deal is with the baker's son through yearly summers on holiday together as friends, nights spent locked away in the cramped bathroom and that stupid tape, Peeta urged her to make for Prim. Not that she'd ever be allowed to watch it that is.She never should have kissed him that day. It took her weeks to get that white stuff out of her hair.





	Hush sweet summer

Summary: From that first day they met in school to their last memory.

Katniss explores what the deal is with the baker's son through yearly summers on holiday together as friends, nights spent locked away in the cramped bathroom and that stupid tape, Peeta urged her to make for Prim. Not that she'd ever be allowed to watch it that is.

She never should have kissed him that day. It took her weeks to get that white stuff out of her hair.

* * *

**Age 5**

"Keep your lips still dammit" I shout, skidding down the slide before leaping off of the climbing frame. His footsteps pound on the ground as he sprints away, an endless taunt thudding in my ears. I don't even stop when the classroom assistants call out to me threateningly - because he doesn't.

I didn't give up when he called me rude nicknames in class. I didn't cry when he purposefully crushed my foot with the metal leg of his chair. Not to mention that I didn't even throw my plastic cup at him when he started to shoot spit balls at me. If there was time for revenge on Cato then it was he made fun of the red plaid dress _my_ papa had picked out.

My twin braids smack against my back, in approval urging, me forth on my mission. I sprint onwards, dodging the big kids as they tut and complain about having to share a playground with _kids_ like me. I wasn't a kid thank you very much. I am five. I demanded respect. It didn't matter that all this running was destroying my shoes or that the friction in them was likely burning holes in my socks. I am so close to shoving him. Taking him down.

"Go give someone else your seam germs brat" he shouts. "I don't want to end up looking like you". I glare as his figure gets further away. Luckily though he was running straight and was now off of the concrete and onto the grass bordered by an electrical fence. Cato wouldn't be able to run from me then or my 'cooties' for that matter. If I could just kiss him then maybe he would be right. My germs could contaminate him and make him sick so he could never come to school again. I wouldn't even have to worry about him picking on my sister in the future if he got the chance.

My breathing stays even, used to the endurance, as I close in on him. Five metres from the fence. I reach out, directly behind him - my stomach hurts and he's crying and my lips are on his skin. _Not him._ Oh no.

I wrap my arms around my stomach, curling over in pain hearing his cackle as he runs the other way. Why wasn't I watching where I was going? Dammit, dammit, dammit! My eyes open and I jerks back from the chubby cheek I just kissed.

The young boy stays sat on the floor as I most likely knocked him over from how fast I was running. His shoulders raise and drop ever so slightly as he hiccups through his tears. I glance down embarrassed before feeling my own mouth quiver. My dress! Not my papa's dress! The lovely design, along with one of my braids that fell over my shoulder, is smeared with some white stuff which quickly melts into my hair and the fabric from the summer heat.

I watch his hands clutch a small stick holding up a candy apple which sticks to his blonde curls, clumping them together and making them matt. The boy's hands tremble as he tries to pull his hair off the toffee apple strand by strand. I glance down again unsure of what he's trying to salvage, his hair or his lunch. The drips on my dress though show it may be caramel.

It must be the baker's boy. No-one else would have such perfect treats - on a school day no less. So why did he ruin it with that white stuff? He closes his eyes and curls up on the grass as though in fear.

"What is that?" I hiss through my tears, focusing again on the white stuff. I shouldn't feel guilty. It was that mean Cato's fault, not mine.

"F-Frosting" he whimpers trying not to cry too loudly. Frosting? Frosting! "C-Cause it's my birthday".

"Oh" I murmur ashamed.

He sniffles once more trying to keep the tremor out of his voice, "And I'm not feeling very happy".

* * *

**Age 9**

"There's blood coming out of my face".

"Quit you're groaning boy" I reply, jumping from rock to rock.

"I feel like a girl" my companion of four years says. Why do I even hang around with him anymore? He cleaned my dress by asking for it from my father weeks after the incident so I stuck with him - to repay the debt. He had nothing to apologise for. Now it seems that I just use him for entertainment. It's two-sided though, because rather than be lonely and play by himself he can come to meet me in the hour after school, saved for 'activities'. I like the Friday's the best though as he shows me squirrels that hide in the trees near my father's cabin. They only seem to come out for him.

I don't comment directly on what he says - they were learning too much in biology for me to be comfortable with - and it's not like I'm _that_ girl yet. The blonde girls in my class seem to suit the role better, as they don't need to fear about being affected through eating too little or wearing or using the wrong items. No, not the Delly's and Madge's of the world, who have spare food and are both physically and mentally miles ahead of everyone else. A full two grades to be exact.

"Well it's a good thing you aren't one because I wouldn't be able to stand hearing you scream all the time".

He lies back on the old mattress trying to relax. Probably to stem or slow down the flow of blood pouring down his face. His bright blue eyes stare up at me innocently as he reaches forward, slipping his fingers under the hem of my trousers to stroke my leg gently.

"What makes you scream katniss?" he whispers huskily.

A wet slap makes me laugh.

"What? I'm just being nice" Peeta murmurs through the material as he peels the wet strip of a towel off of his face. He sticks his tongue out in disgust at the blood that's already soaked through it. "That's what girls talk about".

"And I suppose you've been around a lot of them?"

"Nope, only guys".

I nod before pausing. "Excuse me!" I say aghast as Peeta laughs at my insulted face. Mouth wide open, nose crinkled, brows furrowed. "Remind me to let you bleed out next time".

"Oh don't be like that Kat" he says the smile dropping. Don't be like what? Honest? His voice returns in a similar way to before. "Let me kiss you, it'll make you feel better". I kick his leg lightly, annoyed that he's teasing me about the way I deal with my younger sister, Prim's, small injuries.

I jump onto the mattress and fall backwards to lie next to him. I flinch slightly at the contact between the thin mattress and the sharp rubble beneath. My back stings in pain. Of course. The dang thing has no springs. "Well at least I'm not weird".

He runs a hand through his combed hair, mussing it, "I told you the heat makes me have nosebleeds". I don't respond, not trusting his reasoning after the last time he left a bit later than usual, only to return the next summer day with a bruise and the excuse that he had a condition so an intense workout happened to tear the blood vessels under his eye - because that's normal.

I hear a clicking sound and close my eyes in denial, choosing instead to take a short nap. Whatever it is can wait. When I wake though the other side of the bed is cold. _Freezing_ cold. Goosebumps run up and down my arms, even up my legs. What the hell? My gaze flicks from the sky to Peeta's side of the mattress. Oh for Pete's sake.

"Peeta!" I shout sitting up.

"Hey" he calls from behind me.

Jerking around I slap the berries out of his hands. "What the hell? You can't leave me to go snacking".

"Pretend I'm a fox" he says kneeling down to pick up the remains. I snort and then glares at him for making me react. His face has been wiped clean of blood and the towel peeks out of the pocket of his worn school blazer.

I glance around the slag heap and then up at the sky. It's summer so the days seem longer but Mrs Mellark has always been one to prefer watching the clock than the sun. I shouldn't let Peeta chance it. Ten more minutes, then they'll leave.

"Why the hell is there a freezer on your side?" I ask, angry at being woken up. "With the door open?"

"Well I needed a place to store the dead body".

"This is the site of a murder? What berries have you been eating?"

"Last week, when we had the school picnic and your cat ate yours you said you wanted to drown him".

"So?" I ask confused.

" _So,_ I found a lake half a mile away. You can drown him later on" he teases.

I smile up at him, liking him just a little bit more. "I'll get the shovel".

* * *

**Age 12**

"Okay Katniss, where does the President live?"

I glance at Peeta and the small makeshifts paper boxes on the floor representing real or not real. I only have five boxes left. Five potential answers, and then afterwards Peeta will either offer me a personal question which can take me to the next stage of this board game, and remove one of the boxes, or I'll lose and have to admit that my chance of beating him is 'not real'.

I wipe my clammy hands on my trousers. What's the answer? My eyes glance around the small cabin; the dusty stairs, wooden floors, even the old fireplace kept alive by one thin branch. Anything for inspiration. The answer must be obvious.

"Can I phone a friend?"

"You haven't got any". Peeta smiles when I tut, probably reminding him of his Aunt, before prompting me to answer. This game has been going on since the sun went down. My dad will be back in twenty minutes to make sure their sleeping, and they haven't even begun to clean up. "Come on Kat, just guess. It doesn't matter".

I don't comment that it does matter. That it's partly my cabin so I should automatically win and who plays board games anyway? Prim would probably know the answer, but she's not here. Sighing Peeta drags me over to him by my legs and balances me on his lap. I roll my eyes at being treated like a child but smile happily when his fingers delve into my hair, massaging my scalp. He's been doing this a lot lately, ever since I tried to straighten his soft curls a year ago- to no avail. He's been playing with my hair. Braiding it. Combing it. Plaiting. I stay quiet though, content with the relaxing stroke of his fingers.

"District 12".

His hands stop and I elbows him gently to make him continue.

"Katniss, there is no district 12" he says softly. "This is America - the place before Panem".

"Well, just pretend" I say quietly.

"You're supposed to pick the answer. I'm bored of pretending".

"Well then I quit. Besides" I whisper, "When it comes to this game you have no competition anywhere".

"You really think so" he asks around a yawn.

"Yeah".

"Why?"

"Because" I reply teasingly "You made the game and I don't understand the freaking rules".

His body shakes slightly as he laughs, and I feel a soft, almost pointy pressure at the top of my head. He breathes in deeply. Smelling my hair? "Fine then... I guess we'll both win. It can be a new rule".

"Well that idea sucks".

* * *

**Age 13**

"Why do all the girls at school stare at you?" I ask, looking at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. "It's kind of creepy. Not to mention, why are all your other friends blonde? And females".

"I don't know. I mean isn't everyone stared at, sometimes?" he replies rubbing the liquid across his nose "Finnick said that those girls just happen to be talented in the creative subjects like I do".

I roll my eyes. Finnick said, to go out on Friday's. Finnick said join a club. Finnick said get new friends. Who cares what Odair says, if Peeta never responded to him in the sports changing room after swimming, then we'd never have to hear his input again. I mean, why would anybody want to make friends almost halfway through school?

"I think this is melting" Peeta murmurs.

"It's good for your skin. Clo-Prim said so" I state.

"Right, but isn't honey supposed to be eaten?" I sigh, smoothing the sticky substance over my forehead.

"It's a face peel mask - thing". I remember a girl in school saying it, and it's not like I can afford makeup or anything. Not that I care. It's just awkward sometimes around his new friends, the ones who have money to waste. The ones who live on his side of town with all of the other merchants.

"Oh good, I've been waiting for a new face".

"Stop pushing me" I hiss out when he bumps into the back of me.

"Sorry" he murmurs. I watch him as his left eyes twitches, almost panicking that it's going to be doused in honey. "Hey um, so...I was wondering if I could go hang out with a friend tomorrow".

"But tomorrow's Sunday" I pause, moving closer to the sink and mirror. There's barely any space in this cramped bathroom. "School's over, I thought we were going to my dad's cabin".

"Well I mean it's not going anywhere, and you said it's good to make new traditions".

"Well maybe I was lying" I say, gritting my teeth as my elbow smacks against the side of the sink, smearing the sleeve of my shirt with used toothpaste that never got washed away.

"We can just go out to eat then".

"Do what you want".

"I'll bring you back something" he says happily, wrapping his arms around me so that he can wash his hands.

"I don't want anything" I reply bitter, ignoring the pinch in my stomach.

"Hey, why are we doing this by the way? You don't usually care about how you look".

"Well maybe I do" I snap, ignoring the warmth his arms provide and I wipe the honey dripping down my neck onto his arm, just to annoy him.

"Katniss!" he complains, but before I can respond his lips are there, sucking gently on my skin. I don't move. I'm not _uncomfortable. I never am._ He's careful about that. Peeta's always been a bit silly around me. I guess friends just, taste each other?

"What?" he whispers quietly at my silence. I watch him in the reflection, his tongue tracing his bottom lip before he bites it. His eyes stay focused on the space on my neck he just kissed.

I close my eyes tightly. "Have fun tomorrow".

* * *

**Age 14**

The laughter echo's and bounces around the room as students enjoy our broken fire alarm system. Originally we all had been ten minutes into the lesson, when the first alarm went off. It was only a practise but the piercing sound was still ringing in my ears after we had to go wait outside on the field. Then when we had all had our names taken down and filled back into class, the alarm went off again. We just seemed to keep repeating our history, it just seemed pointless having a lesson anymore with all the interruptions, but I guess that's Panem's education system for you. Cheap, corrupt and a waste of time.

Its currently the third time the alarm has gone off though. This time it was actually pushed. Or in reality, two of our schools wrestles we're messing about in the hallway to delay going to class and one of them knocked the other into the alarm. It's really triggering.

I yawn glancing around as student's line up and down the grass in alphabetical order. I don't even bother tugging on my light blue dress. The sweltering heat, added in with no air conditioning and having to sit down means the skirt of the dress just seems to stick to the sweat on my legs. Though that's not the most uncomfortable thing.

I bite my lip and glance away from the figure approaching. At least it's alone. Where has he been though? No-one's with him and no-one in our class is missing. Except the wrestling squad that is, the ones in our year are just starting to undergo practise. But then again maybe that's not the only practise he's had. I try to ignore the way my hands shake slightly so I grasp fistfuls of my skirt to halt their movement.

I don't look at his rumpled hair or his bright eyes or the way his shirt is askew. No. I just, stare down at my shoes, watching as a fine layer of ash settles on the worn leather.

* * *

**Age 16**

"She almost passed out Peeta!" I complain, worried about Prim. The timetable has changed over the years but today she finally had her first sex Ed class.

"Oh she was just a bit pale and flustered from the textbook detail" he says guiding me through the hallway. "You were the one that collapsed remember? She's fine; she's training to be a doctor".

He pauses, glancing down at me, slightly taller from his growth spurt. "We should make her a tape. She asked us to help her out".

"Shut up or I'll slap you" I hiss embarrassed, knowing my cheek are bright red.

"Where?" he asks with a cheeky smile.

"I just don't want her to go through what I did".

Peeta shrugs his shoulders, "It's your choice". I bite my lip and watch him. The other week he was out with his friends again so I chose to go out too and he's acting completely different from he was then. A lot less territorial? Then again he had nothing to worry about since I only went to the park to see my Uncle's geese. I suppose that the ruffled clothes I left with, from being chased may have seemed odd to him. But I suppose it isn't such a bad idea. Unusual yes but not as odd as the time I opened the door to him in my underwear.

I clasp the flask between my hands in contemplation. My drink has since gone cold, leaching into the humid air. Perhaps...

* * *

**Age 18**

My skin burns red as we stand across from one another in our underwear. We've kissed. Held hands. But this is new. Very new. I glance at the box between us, the small packages.

"Why is it flavoured?"

"I don't know. I bought it online. I prepared for this in college though, by taking photography".

"How are you going to edit this?" I ask watching as he takes off his socks before pulling me close to kiss my forehead.

"Excuse me" he says shocked, "movie makers".

I laugh leaning up to press my lips against his, and take his hand in mine. For preparation. I won't film the first time though. This is ours.

"You're so chaste" he whispers pulling away. "I have an idea. Let's name it... because she came here with me".

"But I'm not going to come with you" I state confused. We're not really going anywhere.

"Oh Katniss" he whispers, eyes darkening slightly, "don't judge my abilities in bed".

* * *

**Age 18 - a month later**

"Guess what I brought" he says carrying a box over to me before placing it down on the bed. I lift the lid. "It's a VCR player, for our VHS tape. Isn't that exciting?"

"It looks old, did you buy it?" I ask curiously. Not that I'd go through with it.

"No I stole it from Haymitch".

"Peeta, you can't steal from family!" I smile as he leans over to kiss my cheek.

"Well" he says grabbing my waist and pushing me up the bed, giving me time to resist, "We better put it to good use".

* * *

**Epilogue**

"Do you remember this place?" I ask as we wander aimlessly around our school grounds. The building we finished our last lesson in, has since been demolished. The whole school seemed to be re-built the year after we left. The windows are clearer, classrooms have more resources, and for some reason there are a lot more students that are taking drama. As if we need more people from the Capitol.

"Yeah" a rough voice says from behind me. Its thick with sleep, which seems unfair since I had to make sure the carriage we were transported here to, was heading in the right direction. Then again I guess it's natural for me to be more alert and protective. He deserved a nap though, but when we get home, well he best hope he's not tired.

"They bulldozed it".

"You seem to have fond memories of balls" I smile, chuckling slightly at his half-witted response.

"Think fast" I shout throwing a ball at him, flinching when it smacks his head. "Sorry".

He rubs his head, smirking and chases after the ball, not tripping over like I used to, as his shoelaces are double knotted. "Told you, you were obsessed with them". I smile when he when he walks over to link our hands.

"At least the climbing frame is still here". He pauses to lean down and do up my shoelaces, bumping his head gently against my protruding stomach.

"You're getting big" he murmurs and I can see a slight smile tug at his lip which he tries to hide.

"You have good eyes" I reply making him chuckle. He stands up and grasps my hand again.

"I never saw you use it" I say confused. He was always alone by the plants before we spoke and even at the few times we had break at different times.

"I didn't, but it's not hard to notice you. You loved using the rings", he says smiling gently as his finger traces the one on my hand. "And not just because they were green".

"It looked terrible". He agrees, remembering the coloured patchwork that he could have easily done much better.

"You used to go upside down on them when you wore the red dress" he says. I smile, grateful I kept it, and that the dress my dad picked out could be put to good use. Even if she does look like she's shrunk back to when she was two in it. The growth spurt will come soon though, even if her father's took a while.

"Tell me a story from when we were younger, because the rings aren't the worst game to play", I ask curious about what he remembers. His love for creativity always did seem to get the better of him. Just another one of his strengths.

"Well one time" he begins shyly.

"Yeah?"

He goes silent for a moment. "...I saw your underwear".

I laugh embarrassed. "Why would you look?"

"It was my favourite colour" he reasons.

"Tangerine?"

"No" he says glancing away, almost forcing himself to look flirty. It's embarrassing to watch, how unnatural he is. Peeta raises one of his eyebrows and purses his lips, like his friend once taught him to do. "Sunset orange".

"Is that some joke because you think the sun shines out of my-". Peeta's laughter interrupts me.

"No, unfortunately. Don't worry though. You're still looking cute as ever in it".

"You suck, but, and not mine!" he chuckles lightly, "at least the choice to wear it wasn't as bad as Prim's idea. I mean who even makes tapes anymore".

"Yeah, we need to finish making ours".

"No" I whine shoving him lightly as we walk onto the grass.

"Ah well. There's always next year".

"Then I'll never stop being pregnant" I say teasingly reminding myself to pick our daughter up from her uncle Haymitch's house. Peeta grins leaning down to kiss me, no doubt making my cheeks look blotchy in this heat.

"But Katniss" he whispers huskily, "we need it". He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear, angling himself away from me in case I act out whilst trying not to laugh at what he's about to say, "For the kids".

* * *

_**Authors note ~ This is just a quick one-shot in its original state and I wrote it for Mores2sl a few months back. It is a bit random as a wrote it in a week whilst studying, but oh well. Hope someone enjoyed and please review! I love hearing your feedback. :)** _


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